Promises
by Hayla
Summary: [UPDATE 07-18: Part VI] (MP-AU-Slash) A long time ago, Merry made a promise. Now, in present day NYC, Merion Brandybuck is plagued by dreams of a man and memories of another life he can't even begin to explain.
1. A Little Bit of Wine

**Disclaimer**: Own them not, though there's always hope ;o)   
**Note**: Extreme AU (Alternate Universe), and plenty of M/P slash! Rated 'R' for language and further, possibly naughty, chapters. You have been warned!   
**Thanks**: To **Def Lep**'s song **_Promises_**, since I was lacking a title for the longest time... and **LOTR100** for giving me a kick in the ass to actually start working on this fic again. Plenty of chapters to come! Stay tuned.   
**Archive**: At www.livejournal.com/~celt_goddess and with permission, of course! 

Enjoy! 

**Promises**   
~by **_Hayla_~**

~o **I **o~ 

Merion entered his apartment with a heavy sigh. He brushed off the quickly fading white flecks and took off his soaking wet coat to hang on the door rack. It had been snowing the better part of the week and the temperature threatened well bellow zero - a condition that fitted his mood quite perfectly. Turning around slowly, he shut the door and locked it. Although he lived in an up scale apartment building, complete with 'round the clock security and an over-boisterous doorman, he had long developed the habit of not really trusting anyone but himself... especially in Manhattan. 

Kicking off his shoes, he headed straight to his right, up a small step, and into his open kitchen. He shook his head violently, the short blonde spikes sending small droplets of water this way and that. He could already feel the longer strands of his hair begin to curl, and he cursed at it softly. Merion had always hated his hair since he was a little boy. Long or short, it never looked quite right and was a pain in the ass to take care of. He was never able to hide the curls, come flatiron or styling gel. Blame it on heredity. 

He made his way over to the cupboard and removed a wine glass. It had been a very, very long evening. The class action lawsuit he was working on was giving him nothing but headaches. To say it was an important case would be an understatement. With his father breathing down his neck, this could either make or break him. He tried to recall when it was that law actually had become work to him. He used to love it... love everything about his work. He had started working for his father's firm after he passed the bar. _Things were so simple then..._

But now it was all tedious. What was the point of working all day and half the night... weekends and holidays... only to come home to a lonely apartment? Hell, he couldn't even keep a pet. He had tried once. A dog. What a disaster that turned out to be. But there was no time for melancholy at the moment. Right now he wanted no more than a little nightcap and a warm shower... or a warm bed. Right now he was leaning more towards the latter. 

Turning on lights and lamps as he went, he picked a fine L'Apparita Merlot from his wine rack. A bottle of Castello di Ama 1998, 'cause he was in the mood. He proceeded to the living room, hitting the blinking answering machine as he passed. 

_ "Four new messages," _the disjointed female voice announced. 

He plopped down on his black leather recliner and eased the seat back. Using the corkscrew he had conveniently left on the end table, he opened the bottle. This had become a recent habit of his. A modern day ritual, if you will. Work. Dinner out. Home. Alcohol. Sleep. Repeat ad nauseam. He threw the opener back on the table and it clanged against another empty bottle from another lonely night. 

_ "Message one."_

_ "Hello, Mr. Brandybuck. This is Sam, from downstairs. I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but-"_

Merion took a long drink of his glass and pushed himself further into the chair. Sam Gamgee was the doorman downstairs. He and his wife Rosie were a pair to be seen. Always helpful, always caring. How many times had Sam helped him carry groceries upstairs, on the rare occasion when it happened, or rushed just to open the door? Even tonight he had dashed out of the apartment foyer with an umbrella so that any part of Merion that _wasn't_ already wet would remain dry until he atleast got inside. It was almost sickening, but he just loved serving people. 

_ "...anyway. Just wanted to make sure you know it's here. The misses has got it at the desk for you to pick up in the morning. Have a lovely evening, Mr. Brandybuck."_

_ Beep_. 

_ "Message two." _Merion really hated that mechanical voice. 

_ "Good afternoon. This is Gregory McConnelly from Bradsbury, Whitman and Associates. I was calling in regards to the claim against my client..."_

Merion easily drowned that one out. Being a lawyer was bad enough, never mind having to take any part of his work home. Although he had become guilty of that on more than one occasion. He wasn't sure how some of these people had even gotten his home phone number. Nothing was _that _important that couldn't be handled by one of his secretaries or assistants. He absolutely hated it when they called him at home. 

He poured another glass and waited in agony as Mr. McConnelly droned on and on. He took up a good five minutes atleast, and if Merion wasn't already so tired he would have gotten up and shattered the machine against the wall. 

He snickered to himself. The thought amused him probably more than it should have. Hell, that was actually how he had lost his last two cell phones. 

_ Beep._

_ "Message three."_

_ Click_. 

He frowned. Yes, he hated hang ups as well. Why bother listening to the entire away message if you weren't going to leave something in return? 

_ Beep._

_ "Message four."_

_ "Merry! Pick up! It's your cousin!"_

The voice on the machine was too cheerful and high spirited for his mood right now. And he disliked it when his younger cousin called him "Merry". The only person who had ever gotten away with that was his mother, and she had died when he was still in college. The memory of her still lingered strongly, despite time, and it troubled him whenever anyone used _her_ nickname. 

_ "Listen... it's already seven and you're late for dinner... again! Tell me you didn't forget already. I just talked to you at the office! Merry... pick up, pick up, pick up..."_

"Shit." Merion jumped up and had the phone in his hand in a matter of seconds. He had been so caught up with the sudden flux of paperwork at the office that he had completely forgotten to phone his cousin and let him know he wasn't going to be able to make it! His fingers, well versed with practice, dialed the number without a thought. 

It rang twice and then a sleepy voice picked up. 

"... 'allo..." 

"Fred, it's your cousin..." 

"Jesus, Merry, it's already midnight! Is everything okay? Are you alright?" 

He smiled in spite of himself. If it were anyone else, he would surely have been greeted with a barrage of curses and ill wishes. _One_, for ditching out on dinner. _Two_, for not calling to cancel. And _three_, for calling so late at night. He hadn't even realized it was so late. 

"Everything's fine. Just fine, I just got caught up at work." 

"Again? Don't you have anyone else working at that office of yours?" The voice was more awake now and in full mood to torment his older cousin. 

"I'd be lucky if any of 'em even knew how to turn on a computer, never mind file a class A lawsuit. Besides... you know how my father can be." 

"Yeah, yeah... Heard that one before." Fred obviously didn't want him to talk shop or reminisce on family strife. He was an easy going free spirit, and the words 'job' or 'obligation' had long been stricken from his vocabulary. "Legal shit aside, how are _you _doin'?" 

Merion paused. _Fucking miserable_, he thought. He was lonely, bitter, and judging by the growing list of things he hated, turning a bit cynical. But other words came out instead. "Oh, fine. You know, daily grind and all." 

"Yeah, well listen, I don't want to wake up Sarah." 

"Oh right, sorry. I'm still not used to you two living together and all." 

"Ha. Yeah, old ball and chain... anyway. Meet us tomorrow then, if you're free." 

It wasn't a request more than it was a demand. 

"Absolutely," Merion committed quickly, while mentally trying to think if he had other commitments. Besides his work, probably not. His social life, or lack there of, wasn't much of a factor. Fred was the only person outside of lawyers, clients, and judges that he saw anymore. 

"Great. We'll try Machello's again. Seven sharp?" 

Merion looked around for the notepad and pen that was by the table and quickly scribbled down the information. He couldn't forget again. "Sounds good." 

"Oh, and Merry?" 

He gritted his teeth. "Yeah, Fred." 

"Bring flowers." 

"What do you mean 'bring-" 

_ Click._

"... flowers'..." 

He hung up his end of the phone and was on the verge of calling his cousin back. But the thought of Sarah chewing him out was too much a risk. He tossed the phone haphazardly into its cradle. _Flowers?_   
  
He groaned out loud as the realization struck him smack on the face.. That could only mean _one_ thing. _Fred's trying to set me up, again._

With heavy steps, he retrieved his drink and headed down the hall to his room. He didn't want to meet another girl at another dinner. It wasn't his idea of fun. But, he owed Fred. And come hell or rain, he would show up, and bare the torture. Until then, he was in need of some much needed sleep. Worries of work were taking up too much of his time, and his father was becoming more and more unbearable. 

He needed an escape... a change of life. Something that would get him finally out of the abyss he had been steadily falling into for years now. A change of clothes, the last drop of wine, and Merion soon found himself promptly face first into his bed. Atleast, at the end of the day, he could always still dream his freedom. If nothing else... 

_ continué..._

(If ya like, leave me one. I breathe off of reviews ;o) 


	2. Of Dreams

**Note: **Short, I know... more to come... 

..::**Promises**::..   
by **_Hayla_**

~o **II** o~ 

_ It was evening where they stood. A silver moonlight glow gave a blue and ashen look to the trees and grass all around them. He felt the curly hair tickle his nose, but he didn't mind. He didn't dare move and it felt good to inhale the sent of the man drawn up close into his arms. He let his hands, which were tightly wrapped around the other's waist, make slow circles along the man's back._

_ Instinct told him that he needed to protect and soothe away the pain he knew was just now brimming to the surface from deep inside. The man's smooth face was nestled nicely on his shoulder. It felt perfect, like he belonged in his arms... like he always had and always would. Therefore, he was taken aback and more than a little worried to feel the hitched breaths that were getting stronger by the moment._

_ He was crying. The man he was holding... he was crying._

"There, there, Pippin. It will be okay," _he heard himself say lovingly, though it was as if someone else was controlling his actions. Someone else was saying the words, for they made no sense to him. _What, _exactly, would be okay? And _who _was this man whom he had called Pippin? He didn't know. But he had to stop the man from crying... and it just felt right. He couldn't bare to see him cry..._

"No, Merry... it won't be..." 

_ His heart was breaking, and he tilted Pippin's face up to his, gently brushing away the droplets from his tear stained face. _"Yes it will..." _Desperate to comfort and reassure, he reached down and kissed the soft tresses at the crown of his head. _"It will, it will... I promise you, Pip." 

_ He trailed small kisses down the brow of Pippin's head, along his cheek, then lightly on his nose. He didn't dare go further, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. But there were some places he had not yet dared to go... dared not tread. Instead, he pulled his gray cloak around the both of them, trapping the warmth and dashing away the cold fear that was prickling up the back of his neck._

"I promise you, my sweet Pippin. Don't cry... don't cry..." 

_ The other man looked up, eyes brimming with more unwept tears. The green orbs sparkled with life and a passion filled him that was almost unbearable. He could only hold his breath, thinking the sight so painfully beautiful. He couldn't move, only stay locked in that stare... moments, hours... centuries... time didn't matter. It was safe. Right then. And, if nothing else, it was home._

"Do you love me, Merry," _Pippin asked softly, the words almost caught by the wind and lost._

_ He felt like he had been waiting for this moment all his life. And all he could do was bend down and close the breathe of distance between their mouths. It was as pure a kiss as could be had. It was also the first, or it felt just like the first - filled with all the same worriment and excitement with the slightest hint of clumsiness._

_ They bumped noses and Pippin tilted slightly to the side, melting completely into his body. All he could do was squeeze the other man tighter and tighter. It felt so right. He broke away only to bury his flushed face in the crook of Pippin's neck._

Home, _he thought._

"I _do _love you," _he managed to say as his heart raced inside his chest. _"Always... until our time is done on this earth. And forever... till the end of all ages..." 

_continued..._


	3. What's in a Rose?

**Note**: Thanks for the reviews! Much appreciated ;o) I will try not to disappoint! 

..::**Promises**::..   
by **_Hayla_**

~o **III** o~ 

Merion arrived fashionably late. Seven twenty by his watch wasn't bad in comparison to his previous track record. Besides, he had to make a stop to get something before he came... something that only Fred would insist that he buy. 

Giving his name, the host took his jacket and quickly guided him to his table. They were situated in the back half of the crowded restaurant. He was led to a little nook of tables with dimmed lights and large, overstuffed red chairs. 

Although he was not even half way to his seat, he attracted the attention of a young man. He smiled warmly as Fred bounded out from his seat, crossed the small room, and lovingly embraced his cousin. 

"Merry! You made it," he breathed happily, ignoring the rather annoyed look on the other's face. Fred knew Merion hated it when he called him "Merry", which made the term all the more dear. 

_ Grit and grin, Merion... grit and grin_. He patted Fred on the back. "Told you I would." 

"A drink, sir," the waiter asked. He had just finished taking everyone else's orders and had followed Fred across the room. 

"Oh good, I'm not _that_ late then," he joked lightly. "Mimosa, please." 

"No, you're just on time. We just ordered drinks. Come, there's someone I would like you to meet!" 

Fred brushed his mass of curly brown hair back and gave him a smile Merion was never able to resist. Fred was just so damn good at getting his way and making you like it, whether you wanted to or not. Merion kept telling Fred what a wonderful lawyer he would make. But that wasn't Fred's style. You would be hard pressed to ever find him in a suit, let alone a courtroom. Even now he was dressed in khaki slacks and a green button down shirt undone just around the collar. A hint of a hemp necklace peeked around his collarbone. 

"Why do you do this to me, Fred," Merion sighed desperately as the younger man grabbed his hand and half dragged him to their table. 

"Cause you love it, admit it!" 

He really didn't. Merion hated blind dates. _Check_. He hated being set up when he was perfectly able to find someone himself. _Double check_. And he hated feeling pitied._ Check, check, check._

As they reached the table, a short, blonde woman with crystal blue eyes got up. Grasping Merion on either shoulder, she kissed him on both cheeks and gave him a smile that would light up even the darkest of rooms. 

"Sarah," he said fondly, and helped her back to her seat. 

Fred had married Sarah about three months ago. The newlyweds were such a perfect match it was sickening. They had met when Fred had backpacked across Europe two summers ago. Keeping in touch, she found a promising job in the touring industry and eventually moved state-side. It didn't take long before they were in love and happily married. Sugar sweet and sickeningly likeable. That's how you would describe the two. 

Ever since the wedding, they both had been dead set on finding Merion a girlfriend. It was almost something of an obsession. He had been set up atleast a half a dozen times. And every date, Merion would tell them "_she was nice... but..._" There was always a 'but'. 

"I would like you to meet Andrea," Fred introduced eagerly. 

"Andy," she said warmly, getting up and shaking Merion's hand. Her grasp was light, and Merion let his eyes trace the delicate features of her face. She was incredibly fair with rosy cheeks and a small button shaped nose. Her reddish brown hair was pulled up with a clip and spilled over, the ends just brushing the top of her bare shoulders. She was, quite frankly, beautiful. He would dare say elfin. Her hazel eyes appraised Merion with just as much approval. 

"And this is my ever punctual cousin," Fred continued, "Mer-" 

"Merion," he provided quickly, darting Fred a heated look off-set by a bemused smile. "And these are for you." 

Merion handed over a small bunch of wildflowers - a couple sunflowers set off with baby's breath and wild orchids. He hadn't known what to get someone he had never met before, and he did love wildflowers. There was just something dear about them, and he loved the way they looked. So much prettier then roses. Her smile faltered a bit but she seemed to take them appreciatively and they both took their seats. _Roses_, Merion thought. _She was a _'rose'_ kind of girl._

Fred and Sarah shared a small smile, seemingly amiss to the very small flaw that distracted Merion. To them, this could actually work this time. But, as ever, Merion had his doubts. 

Drinks came, soups and salads, then dinner. They made lively talk, and Merion almost forgot the troubles of his work, or the fact that this woman sitting next to him was his supposed 'date'. He had started pessimistic with the whole evening, but he was rather enjoying himself for the moment. 

Andy excused herself to the restroom and it didn't take long for Fred and Sarah to scoot their seats closer and engage Merion with some much wanted gossip. 

"What do you think?"   
"She works at the gallery."   
"... perfect gentleman..."   
"See how she was looking at you?"   
"You make such a lovely-"   
"You should take her for-"   
"Those flowers were perfect,"   
"She looks so lovely in-"   
"The way you helped with her-"   
"Why don't you invite-"   
"I think she's quite taken with you..."   
"_So_?" 

The both of them had talked so fast and so quickly over each other, it took Merion a second to sort out what exactly they wanted from him. He pushed his chair back and lounged, just staring at the both of them in awe. 

"You two are really something." 

They both stared with anticipation, oblivious to his diversionary tactics. Merion's eyes traveled towards the path Andrea had taken in retreat. He wasn't sure how he was going to break this to the lovely couple sitting across from him, but something was just not right. 

"She's very nice... _but_..." 

"Merry!" They both said in simultaneous exasperation. They shot each other a silent look that must have spoken volumes. Because, without another word, an entire conversation had taken place without Merion even being there. 

"Look, Merry," Fred began slowly, reaching across and clasping Merion's left hand. "We're worried about you. Andy is nice and caring. She's as smart as they come and she laughed at all your jokes! What could possibly be wrong with her?" 

"It's not her... it's me." It was a lame excuse, Merion knew. But he couldn't explain exactly what it was about Andrea that turned him off so. "She's great and all. I mean, quite honestly, she is one of your better blind dates." He gave a small nervous laugh, then cleared his throat, concentrating hard on his wine glass in front of him. "I just don't see any future between us." 

"We're talking _dating_, Merry," Sarah scolded under her breath. "Not _marriage_!" 

There was a pause as a weighted silence settled between the couple and the object of their distress. 

"She didn't like my flowers," Merion said flatly. 

Fred's jaw dropped and Sarah raised an eyebrow. She spoke again, in slight disbelief. "You're writing her off because she didn't like the flowers?" 

Again, Merion could do nothing more than sigh. _It doesn't feel right_. He wanted to say. _I wouldn't love her... not the way I loved..._ He stopped his train of thought there. He couldn't speak those words aloud. Fred would have none of it. Hell, Merion almost thought himself crazy for thinking it. 

"I know, I know." It was so hard for Merion to explain. "Let's just say she does nothing for me, and leave it at that." 

Andrea slipped quietly into her seat and folded her hands on her lap. She gave a small cough as they all jumped, noticing her there for the first time. It was apparent that she had heard the last of Merion's comments. A bright blush painted his face crimson, and even Andrea seemed embarrassed. Merion downed the rest of his wine quickly. 

It became a stifling environment to be caught in, and no one knew exactly how to break the silence. Finally Fred gathered enough courage. 

"Merry, why don't you and I get a scotch from the bar, yeah?" 

"Yeah." Merion cleared his throat again. "Excuse us, ladies." 

_continued..._


	4. Painful Truths

**Notes**: Once again, I am blown away by the positive reviews! Thanks so much!! :o* There does seem to be some confusion over characters, so I thought I would just take this time to explain a little. Not all of the characters in this story are LOTR based… there are some who are original, as is this is a future/au fic. Those who are characters from the books I've tried to make as obvious as possible (i.e. similar sounding names, features, personality, etc.) I don't think there is need for a character guide, necessarily. I like to leave things to the readers' imaginations. It's always interesting to hear what you've come up with. But, please, anyone is more than welcome to email me with questions, comments, or ideas! I love to hear what you all think :o) ( **xSwitch625x@aol.com **) 

Thanks so much! Happy Holidays to you all and enjoy! 

..::**Promises**::..   
by _**Hayla**_

~o **IV** o~ 

    Fred and Merion took a seat at the bar, and Merion promptly banged his head on the countertop. 

    "I'm such an asshole," he muttered dejectedly. 

    "There, there, cousin," Fred quipped, patting him softly on the back. There was a ghost of a smirk on his face, despite his efforts to conceal his amusement of the present situation. Fred signaled the bartender. "Two double scotch on the rocks, please." 

    Merion let out a long, heavy sigh and slowly sat up. "Really… a fucking… asshole…" 

    Fred took the drinks as they came and pushed the closest one to Merion. "Merry," he laughed lightly. "Really… _flowers_?!" 

    Merion felt his mood lighten, even if it was in the slightest. He brought the brandy glass up to his lips and downed a small sip, letting the liquor burn down his throat and spread faint warmth through his chest. "I know. It's silly." 

    "A bit queer, yes," Fred answered, then turned his tone to just a hint of more seriousness. "Just tell me, really. What was wrong with her?" 

    There was a pause, and Merion became reluctant. He knew he would be asking for it if he told the truth, but Fred had asked. Good, caring Fred… Merion was never able to resist him in the end. He might as well get it over with now and save himself the inquisition. 

    "I had the dream again last night," he confessed quietly. The blond quickly took another swig of the alcohol and fixated his eyes elsewhere, carefully avoiding the stare of his friend. 

    Fred stopped mid sip and made a soft _ah_ sound as if that one small sentenced explained so much. He said no more, however, and simply waited for Merion to continue. He had thought that might have been the reason why his cousin was blowing off girl after girl. He had hoped that Merion would have gotten over all of that dream nonsense by now. 

    The silence spread between the two, and Fred shifted in his seat. He couldn't believe Merion was actually trying to ignore the topic now. It was unlike him. So, with a frustrated sigh, he finally asked the ever-impending question. "_And_?" 

    "_And_…" Merion looked to his cousin, his friend… his confidant. He had told him just about everything in his dreams. _Almost_ everything. He never did bother to explain to Fred that this person he kept dreaming about wasn't a woman at all. He had always danced around the issue, played the pronoun game… whatever it took. He himself was actually uncertain on what it all meant. But, the dreams were getting more and more explicit… vivid. He was sick of hiding it all and trying to play it off as nothing, when now more than ever, he knew it was _something_. 

    "And I woke up again. I dreamt about… about _this person_, and I knew this person like I know you, Fred… more so, actually. And then I woke up." 

    This curt answer didn't quite sit well with Fred. He sensed that there was more to it this time. "Listen, Merion Brandybuck," Fred began slightly condescendingly. "Having the girl of your dreams is one thing. Actually trying to _find_ the girl _in_ your dreams is a completely different story! You have to wake up. Now, I've never been one to tell you what to do, and God knows you've always been so headstrong and stubborn… but Sarah and I are worried about you. I mean, really Merry… when's the last time you've seen sun! You look ghastly!" 

    Merion snickered. "I think it was two weeks ago, last Thursday." 

    Fred smiled. "We're just worried about you, that's all. We want you to be happy, and lately you don't seem to be." 

    Fred's attempts to help Merion were truly genial, and they were usually well received. He meant well, but Merion just couldn't dance around the obvious truth anymore. Fred had to know everything about the dreams he was having. If nothing else, it was a way to finally get his cousin off his back. 

    "It's not a woman, you know." 

    Fred blinked and swung his stool to face Merion. He wasn't quite sure he had heard what Merion had said properly, but there was a prickling feeling going up his neck. "What?" 

    "The person… the one in my dreams… the one that, well, you know... It wasn't a woman. I think. I mean, well… I _know_. It was a man." Merion tilted away from his cousin's stare, faltering. That wasn't exactly how he wanted it to come out. He sounded too insecure, though in his heart he knew the truth. "And I loved him," he finished, his words barely audible over the murmurs of the other patrons. 

    Fred couldn't help but sit there slack jawed. He couldn't exactly get his brain to function properly at that moment. "You're… you're… uh…" 

    "No, Fred," he said with a small, uncomfortable laugh. He took another sip of scotch for courage. "I'm not gay or anything. At least, not that I know of… I mean. Yes, I have been having rather intimate dreams about another man, but it's not like I've _been_ with a guy before." 

    "Do you want to?" 

    Fred's question was so unexpected that Merion nearly choked on the drink in his mouth. 

    "Jesus, what?!" 

    "Merry," Fred said sternly, swinging his friend around so that they were level – eye to eye. Nothing to hide. "What's going on?" 

    Merion let out a long breath of air and felt heavy inside. He shook his head slowly. "I don't know, Fred. These feelings I have in my dreams – they're so real. Sometimes, when I wake up, it hurts. It just hurts so badly. It's like I've been spending a lifetime away from something so precious… so dear." 

    "And…" Even Fred was unsure of where he wanted to take this conversation. But, this new piece of the puzzle was falling into place. The only problem was that Fred was even more confused of the overall picture as ever. This unexpected information surprised him, to say the least. Hell, shocked him really. Merion had had these dreams for as long as he could remember. There were always little snippets here and there. They were always so fantastical. But never once had Merion ever mentioned that this _other person_ he always spoke about was a _man._

    Really it didn't make a wit of difference. Or it shouldn't have, but Fred couldn't fight the flit of anger that was rising up inside him. Merion had hidden something from him. Obviously something that was important to his cousin, and Fred didn't understand why. It was likely that he was feeling betrayed… and probably even more confused. But, most of all, Fred felt hurt. Really hurt. For that one moment in time, it was as if the person sitting across from his was a complete stranger. 

    "They're getting more vivid." Merion took a deep breath and continued. "These past few months, they've just taken over. All I want to do is sleep, and each time I do… I… I almost hope that I don't have to wake up again." 

    Merion hadn't even thought about that fact before, and it shocked him that he just let those words slip out. Lately he _had_ been spending more and more time alone in his apartment. There was always a bottle to calm his nerves, and a bed to escape his reality. It was starting to make sense, and Merion wasn't sure he liked what it meant. 

    "You lied to me," Fred finally managed to say, and he turned away from Merion, no longer able to look at him. 

    "How?" 

    "We promised that we would never keep anything from each other." 

    Merion scrunched his brow in confusion. "But I haven't." 

    "Yes you did!" Fred slammed down his glass in exasperation. "All this time… you kept telling me _she_ was this and in my dreams _her voice_ that! Never once did you tell me it was a _he_!" 

    "I never said it was a _she_!" Now it was Merion's turn to be angry. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the fact that his cousin was taking this all the wrong way, but his voice was raising and a red flush crossed his cheeks. "_You_ just assumed I was talking about a woman!" 

    "_You_ let me _assume_, Merry." Fred was taking up his defenses. He wasn't about to back down. "That's just as bad as lying." 

    "I never lied to you! And I told you to stop calling me Merry!" Merion turned to face the bar, using it for balance as he got up on shaky legs. "Just say it, the fact that I might be in love with another man sickens you." 

    Fred grabbed Merion's arm with a little more force then he intended and he pulled him around. Both men now faced each other toe to toe as Fred shot to his feet. "Bull shit, _Merion_. It's a dream! It's a sick little dream that you are deluding yourself with! You say you're not gay, fine. Whatever. I don't give a toss. But you're living in a fantasy! Would you just listen to yourself? You admit that you go home to sleep all day. And you're saying you're in love with a man. A man in your _dreams_??" 

    "I got to go," Merion spit, not wanting to listen to the rest of this. An icy block had settled firmly in his stomach. He knew if he stayed any longer, acidic words would come pouring out… words that he would probably regret the rest of his life. 

    He pulled away from Fred's firm grip. He shouldn't have told Fred. The dreams were his anyway… he should never have shared them. He turned on his heels and headed straight for the coat check. 

    "Wait, Merr… Merion…" Fred's voice quavered a bit as he just stood there. "Where are you going?" 

    "I need air, it's just gotten stifling in here," he muttered waving his cousin off. "Tell Sarah and Andrea goodnight." 

    And with that, he left, never even bothering to look back. If he had, he would have seen his heartbroken cousin leaning against the bar with his head in his hands – not that it mattered. Merion was convinced of the fact that Fred would never understand… and he hated him for it. He had hoped for too much too soon. With bitterness, Merion began brooding in his own thoughts. There was no one in the world that understood him. 

    "No one…" 

_continued, don't you worry ;o)_


	5. A Familiar Face

**Apologies: **For taking so long with the next chapter! Toss is up to the fiasco of post holiday work and moving. THANKS for sticking with me and not getting _too_ angry ;o) To make it up to you all, I hope this installment has a _little _of what most of you have been just dying for... 

..::**Promises**::..   
by** _Hayla_**

~o** V **o~ 

It was all too real. The dreams... the touches and smell... and most of all, the feelings. Even now Merion couldn't quite shake them. He had decided to walk back to his apartment. The air was cold and stung his lungs. It felt good. It was still snowing, getting heavier by the minute actually, and the frosty wind bit through even his well lined coat. He couldn't remember the last time it had actually snowed _this _much in the city . All he could think about was his warm bed only a few blocks up street. _Yes... bed... sleep_. 

The "memories" had a habit of hitting Merion like a tidal wave. He used to be able to go weeks without the dreams plaguing him. But when he thought about them frequently, like he was now, every little detail came back with shocking clarity. And every night was a reawakening of something lost. Call it power of suggestion or what have you, but as Merion exited the restaurant and began the haul back to his apartment, he thought about him._ Pippin_. 

_ Not thought_, Merion assured himself. _Remembered. _He was remembering things about this person in his dream. So vividly, and so out of left field, that as soon as Merion turned the city block and was out of sight of Fred, should he for some reason give chase, he felt overcome. 

His heart felt heavy and his feet began to drag. This wasn't like him. A weighty depression seemed to fall down on him and slow his pace till he was almost at a dead stop. A few people brushed him on the left and right as they made their way down the sidewalk, but Merion stood solid. 

_ We will see the Shire again, Pippin... I promise you..._

Merion shook his head as if to get rid of the voice in his mind-- _his _voice. Words _he _spoke_. Where was this all coming from_, he thought hopelessly. He turned to his right and entered a small store at the corner. He made his way immediately to the counter and purchased a pack of Parliaments. It wasn't like him to smoke... he hadn't done so for years... but he needed something to distract him, to calm his nerves. This was getting out of hand. 

Grabbing a pack of matches as he left the store, he quickly lit up and let the nicotine laden smoke billowed through him. It was a strange sensation, that first drag. It made him feel dizzy. 

_ You smoke too much, Pip..._

"Stop," he commanded himself softly as he began to walk again. He was beginning to feel mad, like he was caught in a fucked up mind game. Everything was getting out of control, even his thoughts. _Just stop..._

He turned the corner, one more block to go, when he heard it. The sounds of fighting were unmistakable. He heard a small yelp and the banging of trash cans. He inched forward and peered down the small alleyway. Two figures were crouched down over a barely moving form. At first, Merion thought to call the police, but remembered all too quickly that he had destroyed his last phone a month ago. 

"Shit," he muttered quietly. He threw the remains of his cigarette down and stepped around the corner, hurrying down the narrow path towards the fight. Normally he wouldn't have such confidence, but something inside him begged for action. It seemed a good a way as any to vent his frustration. 

"Stop, police," he yelled in false confidence. He couldn't think of anything else to say, and he wasn't quite in for a two on one against himself as well. Luckily it worked, and the two figures jumped at his voice, then quickly skittered in the other direction. It hadn't even occurred to Merion that they might have been armed. He shook a little at that thought as he approached the body. It shouldn't have been that easy, but thank god it was. 

The figure lay crumpled on the wet ground and shaking. There was a small whimpering noise issuing forth, and Merion became incredibly confused on what to do next. He stood there for one second, then reached down and gently clasped the young person's shoulder. 

The person jumped and scrambled away, hitting the wall and cowering away from Merion. He raised his hands, for now Merion realized that it was a young man who had been attacked., to guard his face in defense. 

"No, don't," he pleaded. Merion felt his heart fill with compassion. 

"No, no," he coaxed quietly, squatting down and reaching a hand forward. "It's all right. They're gone." 

There was a pause, and the young man peered from behind his tattered-gloved fingers. His green eyes shone fiercely and stared with wanton mistrust. Merion had seen that look before, in many court cases where a man was about to receive his sentence. Fight or flight. And judging by the piercing look Merion was being given, the man had regained enough of his senses to fight. 

"Look," Merion said softly, extending both his hands and turning the palms upward. "I'm not going to fight you. I just want to know if you are okay." 

The man turned towards the wall, slowly using it as a brace to get to his feet. He stood there half slouched, barely standing. He was breathing heavily and one of his arms was wrapped carefully around his waist. Merion stood as well, backing up a bit so as not to alarm him. 

"Do you need help? I can help you." 

"No," the stranger answered in a low, raspy voice. 

Merion nodded. Who was he to argue? No point in picking another fight, and it was obvious he wasn't going to get anywhere. If the boy didn't want his help, there was nothing he could do. He had problems enough of his own. Merion turned his feet back towards where he came and began to make his way back to the light of the street. 

There was a shuffle of movement, and Merion heard the labored breaths of the man behind him. "Wait," he breathed, his words breaking into a rough cough. 

Merion slowed his pace. 

"Wait, please..." he asked again with a hint of urgency. 

Merion turned and for the second time that night his heart leapt out in sympathy. The poor fellow was struggling after him, but was clutching his side in such apparent pain that Merion immediately felt guilty for brushing the man off so quickly. 

The youth shuffled forward, his steps awkward and uncertain. "Thank you," he wheezed. 

It was only then that Merion detected a hint of an accent. He couldn't yet place it, but it was familiar and peeked his curiosity a bit. 

"You're welcome." 

The stranger eventually came a pace away from Merion, stepping into the light of the street. He stopped and swayed a bit. 

Merion took in a sharp breath. 

It wasn't until then, in the faint glow of the streetlight, that he was able to take in the full features of the other person. Merion felt his jaw slack slightly and his eyes widened in disbelief. _I know you_. He felt like pinching himself, because surely he had to be dreaming. 

The young man's face, behind grit and a sliver of blood that ran along his scalp, was incredibly familiar. Green eyes... pale skin... thin pointy nose and high cheekbones. He had seen this man before. 

"Come," he motioned, somehow managing to find his voice. "I'll lend you my shoulder... let's get you checked out." 

The man almost fell completely forward, nearly knocking Merion over. Apparently it had only been sheer will that had kept him upright. Merion carefully positioned his arm around the boy's shoulders and let him lean almost his full weight against his own body. 

"No doctor," he pleaded to Merion, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, no hospitals..." 

Merion shifted the man's weight and held onto him protectively, still feeling slightly dizzy with his discovery. "Alright, no hospitals," he promised, unsure of why. He really did need to get checked out by someone. "My place is only a block away. Can you make it?" 

There was a small grunt which Merion took as acceptance. He slowly began making his way back home. His heart was beating quickly, and he held onto the man like some precious cargo. 

_ It couldn't be._ He kept thinking again and again. _It was only a dream._

And as the wind picked up and blew cold air against the two, and as the youth clung to Merion for warmth and protection, Merion felt his stomach turn and a tingling run up his spine. _I must be going mad,_ he thought soberly. He might have only been dreaming dreams before, but one thing was for certain-- 

Right now, he was awake_..._   


_oh, you know there's a part VI coming..._


	6. Safe Haven

A/N: Umm... ::cough:: Sorry I disappeared again! Don't hurt me! ;o)

..::**Promises**::..   
by** _Hayla_**

-o** VI **o-

Sam spotted them immediately, like Merion knew he would. He dashed out the door and instantly began firing questions as the two stumbled into the apartment foyer.

"Are you alright Mr. Brandybuck? Who's this, I dare say? What happened? Do you need the police?"

"No, no, Sam. It's alright." Sam's hyperness wasn't really what Merion needed at the moment. He didn't have the patience to humor his friend, but the questions continued as the group made its way over to the elevator.

"Do you want me to call an ambulance? I'll come up and help you, sir, if you be needing anything. Where did you pick him up anyways? I sure know-"

"Sam!"

The doorman, slightly abashed from the tone of Merion's voice, sheepishly held the door as the elevator rang open. The boy was like a rag-doll in Merion's arms, limp and barely conscious of his surroundings. They really must have looked quite the sight. Merion couldn't blame Sam for being concerned. As he turned around in the small cabin, Merion shook his head with a sigh. Sam looked as though he was about to burst, barely managing to bite his tongue for the moment.

"Call Dr. Greyhame, if you must. Send him up to my place," he relented, hoping to appease some of Sam's misgivings. "But no police. No ambulances. Alright?"

"Yes, sir." Sam seemed to snap to attention and removed his hand, the doors quickly closing. Merion punched blindly for his floor number. As the elevator slowly jerked alive and began moving upwards, the young man stirred and mumbled something Merion couldn't quite pick up.

He shifted his weight and leaned in closer. "What was that?"

"Doc...doctor... you prom-mised... no... doctor..."

"No, I didn't." And now Merion felt relieved that he had told Sam to get the on-call doctor. The boy's words were slurred and uneven. And judging by the way his breaths came out in short puffs, Merion was quite certain that a rib or two might be bruised, if not broken. "I promised I wouldn't take you to the hospital. I said nothing about getting you no help at all."

The other man snorted slightly, despite his condition. Atleast, if nothing else, he found amusement in Merion's use of semantics. But right now, Merion's top priority was to just get this man fixed up a bit and filled with some food. He was too thin, Merion thought. And judging by the state of his clothing, Merion was quite sure that the incident had not been a mere mugging. This youth, he was a street urchin, most likely. _But that was not how he knew his face..._

Again, Merion tried to dash those thoughts from his head. The bell chimed dully and the doors slide open. Important things first.

Apartment. Doctor. Food. He would have to just figure out the rest later.

-o**)(**o-

The doctor closed his small black bag and patted the young man on the shoulder. He left the bedroom and walked into the kitchen where Merion and Sam stood quietly. Sam hadn't stopped fidgeting since he entered Merion's apartment and he nearly jumped out of his skin when the doctor appeared.

"Patched up is he, Dr. Greyhame," he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Gamgee." The doctor nodded and suspiciously eyed Merion, who was leaning against the counter with crossed arms and a downward stare. "And what, exactly, did you say happened?"

"I told you, already." Merion let out an exhausted breath. He was sick of explaining himself. First to Sam... then to Sam again, and now the doctor was asking for conformation. There really was no reason _why_ he should have to explain himself to anyone. "He was getting roughed up by some thugs, I chased them off and decided to bring him here."

The doctor shook his head slowly and took off his glasses, cleaning them slowly with a small handkerchiefs from his pocket. It was obvious he didn't approve of Merion bringing a stranger home to be bandaged up and taken care of. Greyhame was an older gentlemen, who had lived much of his life in high society. He was never exactly mean to anyone, or uncaring. Atleast not that Merion could recall. But he had an irritating habit of being more than a bit condescending - like he knew what was best for everyone. The doctor had little dealings with, as he pleasantly termed it on occasion, the "less fortunate". But Merion had forced him to take care of someone just like that. Someone, who probably in the Greyhame's opinion, didn't even earn enough to give the time of day.

"Just keep him still for a couple days. He has some mild bruising, and I had to stitch up that gash on his forehead. Make sure he keeps it clean and dry, won't you?"

Merion nodded.

He replaced his glasses and headed out of the kitchen, followed closely by Sam. Merion straggled a few paces behind. Greyhame reached for the door and turned around as he opened it. "I would still recommend calling the police, or a shelter. Trouble like that has no place with a respectable young man like yourself." He promptly turned and left.

Merion instantly felt the need to defend the young man, the flush of red rising to his cheeks. But he kept his calm and called out his thanks anyway, though he doubted the doctor had even heard or cared. Now, however, it was Sam who had some words to share.

"Um... sir. The Young Mister stopped in before you came by with your... uh... guest."

Sam had always called Fred "Young Mister" since his cousin was twelve years old. Sam said it was something about the way Fred carried himself, even at that young, that just glowed of great things. Sam believed he looked the part of someone older... someone who had seen more than was possible at his age. "He seemed in an awful state and right out of breath. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought he was trying to beat you home."

Merion nodded, but neither confirmed nor denied the suspicions that were guaranteed to be flying around Sam's head. Fred had probably tried to catch him after the restaurant incident. And who knows, if Merion had taken a cab instead of walking, he just might have succeeded.

"Yes... well... if you ask me Mr. Brandybuck, and I hate to say this, you'd be better off listening to that stuffy old doc and get him right away out of here. He looks of the sorted type to me." Sam puffed his chest slightly, and glared in the direction of the room, which was now occupied by Merion's "guest", as Sam had put it.

"Thanks, Sam," Merion said coolly, holding the door open a little wider in an attempt to signal Sam to leave _now_. "But I didn't ask the opinion of neither you nor the good doctor."

Sam gave a slightly hurt look and shuffled through the open doorway. "If you be needing anything, you can always ring."

"Thank you."

"And I left that package in the living room. Rosie said you didn't stop by, so I thought I would save you a trip, sir."

For a second time that night, Merion felt slightly ashamed of his actions. Sam was a good man and an even better friend. All he ever did was look after those he cared about. He shouldn't have treated him so brashly, but other matters were pressing him at the moment.

He warmed his tone a bit. "Thanks, Sam. Really. For everything."

Sam flashed him a smile that let him know everything was just as easily forgiven. He turned and headed down the hallway. Merion closed the door. He made his way to the bedroom and quietly made his way inside. The young man laid lost amongst the pillows and sheets, though Merion could see the top of his shoulders and part of his upper torso. He had taken his shirt off to be treated.

The youth was sleeping easily, as far as Merion could tell, and a sudden, strong wave of longing came over him. He padded his way across the carpeted room to look down upon the stranger, who really felt more familiar to Merion than anyone else at the moment. Gently, he reached forward and pushed a stray strand of brown curl away from the boy's face. His fingers barely touching the boy's skin. But Merion wanted to touch that face... to own it and have those green eyes look back at him with longing and desire, like they had in his dreams.

"You'll be safe here," he whispered softly. "I promise."

Something in his libido twitched awake and Merion pulled back his hand like it was scalded by fire. It wasn't right to lust after someone like that. Let alone a complete stranger that he just happened to pick up on the street... _even if the man does bare an uncanny resemblance to the person in my dreams_. He couldn't think about that right now. It was crazy... _I'm insane..._

He reached over the bed and clicked off the light, leaving the room in complete darkness save for the sliver of moonlight that peeked over the neighboring building and flooded through the partial opened blinds. Even the moon was against him as it painted the strangers skin with a blue-white glow that jogged even more remembered dreams through Merion. It took all his will to fight the temptation to crawl into the bed and cradle the young man in his arms... protecting him and soothing him through the night.

He shook his head violently. _Yeah, that's all I need. Have some bum off the street find me holding him like a baby. _

With deliberate footsteps he left the room, casting one more look at the sleeping form as he shut the door. The thought rang clearly in his head, and he didn't bother to fight it this time.

_ I have watched you sleep before..._

_more to come..._   
_...sooner than you think... _;o)


End file.
